For those not in the know, TheDrunkLibrarian is doing a fantastic recap of John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. We have both connected over how terrible this book is, and she has come to me for my skills to analyze what is arguably the most controversial part of the whole damn book. Get your ciders and popcorn ready, because this is going to be a long one.

Guys, guys. We are finally nearing the end of the longest freaking chapter in the world.

Hallelujah!

And unfortunately for me, the site I was using to bootleg the book is no more. It has ceased to be. It has expired and gone to meet its maker. It’s a — okay, I’ll stop now. Anyway, you can find the book here for now, and I’m sure when this gets taken down I’ll find another place to get my electronic Green goodies.

So we’ve found ourselves at the top of the staircase, where Sunshine is collapsed and desperately struggling to breathe. It would be genuinely moving and beautiful if I wasn’t sitting here wondering why your mom isn’t here to help deal with things like that, instead of your cancerous-but-oh-wait-that’s-totally-a-surprise-I-will-not-see-coming boyfriend and a stranger who’s inexplicably decided to pay for your visit (with Van Houten’s money, I’m sure).

But it’s okay, because I have John Green to keep me calm and composed and remembering what’s really important in life: being pretentious.

And you know what’s even better? This chapter is so long, and so terrible, that I need to break it into thirds. That’s right: this’ll be my first-ever 3-PART CHAPTER!

Oh man, there aren’t enough gifs in the world to save me. I could’ve blown this off and played Town of Salem for a few hours, guys. Maybe I could’ve afford the sweet rock-splatting-onto-you death. (P.S. If any of you play that, I’m cayaway. Friend me; I’ll need the comfort after reading this garbage.)

I mean . . . what are the odds that this chapter is just an extremely elaborate (and belated) April Fools’ joke? Because I literally don’t understand how a group of educated human beings read this chapter and didn’t immediately light themselves on fire.

Were the editors on crack? Was Green on crack? Was crack sprinkled into the lining of every page so that people were somehow convinced that anything in this heinous chapter was a good idea?

But I’m getting ahead of myself. As you may remember —

unless you repressed it

— last week we finished the most painfully boring bit of nothing Green has put on paper to date, which is saying something. This chapter is . . . less boring, but twice as long and harder to get through. I’m not even sure where to begin, because there’s just too much wrong to address that it overwhelms my brain and sends me in anaphylactic shock (seriously, what do they put in this book?).

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